Charlotte Murray
by OrchidBee
Summary: A grown up witch living in the magical world.
1. Chapter 1

I

The lift was descending, clacking everywhere and raging with violent snaps every time it stopped at a level. Charlotte was tapping her foot impatiently, though she felt slightly anxious about her return. She had been gone for almost three months, trapped inside a French office filled with obnoxious, too-important-to-pay-her-any-attention people and barely having any correspondence with London. The room assigned to her to act as a workplace in Paris had reeked and had been cold and damp throughout her time there. She often wondered if it was a suggestion of their private thoughts on British wizards and witches, or simply an unawareness of Britain's indoor conditions. Even so, she had chosen not to complain; unpleasant as it were, she knew it was a promotion from her previous responsibilities within the Ministry in London. It would certainly help her move up her career once she returned with a trading treaty between Britain and France, at least one that would not upset Denmark so much that they would resort to illegal exportation of their own goods.

The part that must have pained her the most was how lonesome a time it had been, and she had enjoyed very much the racket of the Atrium and sighting and waving at old friends who had disappeared into their own lifts. Level Six - Department of Magical Transportation, said the voice that seemed to belong to someone inside the lift.

"Lottie, how good it is to see you!" said a tall, lean man entering the lift and rushing to give her a one arm hug filling her nose with his fragrance with tobacco and salt water notes. She felt a bit sickened by his intense cologne. A hidden shiver ran up her neck as she felt his long arm bringing her closer and he continued without releasing her, "How are you, my dear? I reckon you had a good time in France? I did ask them to be nice to you." He sniggered.

"It was a bit clammy." That was all she could say.

He gave a loud cackle that echoed in the lift moving downwards. The other two people turned their heads at the sound but swiftly moved away from the pair, and especially moved away from Blackboon physically avoiding him, at any cost. Charlotte noticed he kept the same thoroughly cut dark hair and his navy robes were as impeccable as she remembered.

"Clammy you say! You are so amusing, my dear" he said, still ringing.

Level Five - Department of International Magical Cooperation, said the female voice again.

"Actually, I have to report to Mr. Crouch now." she said moving away from his clasp by pretending to look for something in her satchel.

"Of course, of course" he said lifting both his hands up in the air "I wouldn't want to keep you away from your job." He winked knowingly at her and grinning widely moved gracefully away towards the back.

Charlotte waited for the lift door to open and quickly stepped outside, breathing deeply the fresh air but stayed in the same place, back turned to the lift doors now closed, with as much contempt in her face as anyone could muster. Being in debt to Blackboon was her worst nightmare come true, and she knew that somehow it had potential to become even more terrible than it was at the moment.

It was a large room, mostly occupied by many small cubicles and with a very austere decoration; a corridor to the left would take her to the head of the department's office. There weren't many windows but the sun shone on the space between her cubicle and the other behind warming, a definite change from the rain pouring outside.

She moved fast towards her cubicle in the large open room where several other wizards and witches were already working inside their own cubicles, quite focused, leaning over their papers. As she got to her desk, piles of paperwork had already been stacked on top of it, she knew they were recent because they weren't dusty like everything else. She waved her wand so it sprayed a slow gust of air out of its top to clean it. Charlotte sat by the desk and started removing her notes and every legal document out of her satchel and organizing them into piles so that she could later show them to Mr. Crouch, but froze when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. For a moment she feared Blackboon had returned, but then she saw the sandy blonde hair and pale face of Ethan Cooper.

"Hello "he said "Thomas had said you were to come back two days ago."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I had to prolong my stay a little longer so I could get this done" she said pointing at the papers she had just dropped on her desk. She mutely reproached herself for feeling she still had to report to him, and continued, firmly "I notified to Mr. Crouch of my delay."

"Of course," he said slowly and walked away with a sour look on his face.

Charlotte breathed deeply again with a frown, this promotion, pleasant as it had been in some respects, had caused her nothing but trouble so far. Everyone knew perfectly well that Ethan was supposed to be the one to leave for France: he was her senior and a widely respected wizard and representative among his colleagues and especially, among his superiors

He would have been the obvious choice if it hadn't been for Blackboon's meddling, who managed to recommend her, a mere trainee previous to her trip and a barely experienced employee, to that position taking it away from Ethan.

Charlotte could never condemn him for his unpleasant comments and looks, though they all made her awfully bitter and feel isolated at her workplace. Every day she was increasingly convinced she should have refused the position the moment it had been offered to her.

She finally headed to Barty Crouch's office with an armful of papers for him to read and approve of. She knew she had done a reasonably good job managing to compromise the demands of both countries, but somehow she felt even more nervous than she did when she entered the building. Mr. Crouch was not a very assertive or imposing individual but he was still everyone's boss.

Charlotte knocked on the door, she noticed her hand was shaking slightly and clenched it trying to calm herself by breathing slowly. She startled as the door was furiously opened by a massive man in emerald green robes and a round hirsute face that was frowning at her.

"What do you want?" he roared at her. For only a second she thought they had forgotten to warn her that Mr. Crouch was no longer the head of the department and had been replaced by a gigantic former hermit.

"I'm here to see Mr. Crouch" she said calmly. She had learned with the French not to respond heatedly to an already angry man; she had seen it end badly for most of those who did so.

"Mr Crouch" he spited "is unavailable at the moment. Come back later."

He was about to shut the door in her face when a low voice was heard from the inside,

"Mr Hall, don't you dare shut that door. Now, please, take back your seat." ordered Mr Crouch. "I'll deal with you again in a few minutes"

Mr Hall had no choice but to step back from the door. He was a large man, enough to block the entrance so once he stepped back Charlotte could finally see Mr Crouch's office and notice it hadn't change much from the rare visits she had taken previously. The same oak desk sitting in the middle of the room, in front of the door, and surrounded with fragile piles of papers; the same paintings of notable individuals within the department who now rested, leaning on their frames at her right with a set of sofas beneath them; at her left the whole wall was hidden behind a gigantic bookcase crammed with massive hardcover books with beautifully drawn letter in silver and gold on the spines.

"Ms. Murray, I'm so glad to see you well, please come in. You have the documents, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir, I have brought all the copies" she said walking swiftly towards him and placing a short stack of long parchments on the desk that was already packed full.

Charlotte looked cautiously at Mr. Hall.

"Don't mind Mr. Hall. Please pretend he is not in the room" said Mr. Crouch hurriedly going through the papers and Mr. Hall grumbled something that sounded very much like an insult. "Do remind me of this whole business, Miss Murray, wood importation, was it?"

"Yes, sir, the goal was essentially to settle at cheaper shipping prices between Britain and France and preventing Denmark from overwhelming the market. The Danish, of course, weren't very pleased about it, but eventually came to accept the terms since it offered several advantages, as the importation of oak would come cheaper to them as well."

"I see, and what about the Danish broom makers specifically? What did their representatives have to say about it?"

Charlotte heard Mr. Hall hissing loudly but tried her best to ignore his presence.

"They were in fact among the ones who weren't very pleased" she explained and couldn't help a bit of distaste at remembering how long it had taken, "but they eventually conceded and we concurred that the demand for their goods would not decrease even when faced with the increasing supply to French and English woodworkers and artisans."

"Very well, very well" he muttered, his attention still fixed on the papers.

A few minutes of silence followed, Charlotte felt her hands sweaty and her mouth dry and turned to focusing on her breathing again. She noticed through the corner of her eye Mr. Hall relentlessly fidgeting in his chair looking fretful and cross but pretended not to take any notice.

"Please leave those here." Mr. Crouch finally said placing the documents on top of an already unstable pile of papers, "And bring your notes too, ah yes, you've brought them already. Very well, you seem to have done a very good work, I am not surprise given the recommendations" he smiled at her encouragingly "You may leave for now, I'm sure you have more work to do." and he got up and showed her the door. Before it was shut, she still caught a nasty glance from Mr Hall.

As she moved away she felt a sour taste in her mouth and pure, unscathed rage brought crimson colours to her face. As long as she did a good job, she was sure it would be Blackboon's credit to take, and she despised it.


	2. Chapter 2

II

Tiny yellow leaves with dashes of brown and red danced and twirled in the air as she walked the paved track that crossed the park. There were lumps of leaves protected by the large trees from the ruthless wind. Charlotte adjusted her scarf around her face again and looked around but there was not a soul in sight. The grass had been mostly replaced by a muddy playground and every bench was wet and cold; the park did not look very inviting so she wasn't surprised to find herself alone.

She headed fast towards her apartment tightening her coat around her. Somehow, she expected to find it destroyed by a large fire, or to find that the whole building had suddenly collapsed, but it was the same as always. The white coat was a bit dirtier, and the street in front of it seemed busier, but apart from that, it was the same old place. Though she had been back to London for a few hours now, she hadn't actually been inside her apartment yet. On her way home, Charlotte had just thrown her bag into the hallway, locked the door back again and left for the Ministry, so at the moment she was somewhat expectant to be in it.

When she opened the door, she found her home engulfed in darkness; all windows were shut for some reason, the only light was coming from the fringe of the door that lead to the kitchen. She was taking her coat to the hanger when something caught both her feet. Once she regained her balance, she noticed she had tripped on her own bag that stood in the same place where she had thrown it before.

"Careful with the bag!" shouted a voice coming from inside the kitchen. She heard cutlery falling on the floor and the kitchen door opened lighting the hallway. "And I'm clumsy!" said a bright-eyed girl, who seemed about Charlotte's age.

Charlotte walked towards her and they hugged each other, laughingly.

"It's so good to see you." said Charlotte

"It's good to have you back! This place has been boring without you around." said the other leading them into the kitchen "By the way, you're late, and I made dinner. It's fancy, so I also bought tons of ice cream and chocolate to take the awful taste away from our mouths."

Charlotte between laughs, suddenly realized how much she had missed her home and her friend while she was in France, and felt as peaceful and welcomed as any home should make one feel.

"So why were you so late, anyway? I was expecting you to be home hours ago. Didn't they give you the day off?" asked the girl between mouthfuls.

"They did, but I wanted to deliver the documents and get this deal over with. You wouldn't believe how bothersome it was." said Charlotte without lifting her eyes from her plate.

"I know it's boring" said she with a grin "But by the look on your face I suspect someone else was there too. Blackboon?" she said with a frown, and inspecting pensively the food on her plate before looking up at Charlotte. She continued doing her best to sound light-hearted, "You should really, really put a hex on him. A really nasty one, too, maybe boils all over that ghastly face of his."

"Like that would do me any good." said Charlotte chuckling.

"Seriously, Charlotte, if you don't, I will. I can't stand the guy. Even Moody can't stand him and he usually at least respects good Aurors." she said stubbornly, her eyes fixed on Charlotte's face.

"Don't joke about that, alright?" Charlotte said, and suddenly the conversation grew very serious "He's really not someone you'd want to mess with."

"I am an Auror too, you know?" she said defiantly without steering her eyes away.

"You're not an Auror_ yet_, Tonks" Charlotte replied.

"Listen, just because I'm in _training_ doesn't mean I'm less capable. I passed the tests" said Tonks persistently. "Besides you don't need to be an Auror to be good; I remember you being one of the best at school and I still have no idea what you're doing in _International Magical Cooperation_." Tonks retorted.

"I got to spend a few months in France" she replied with a smile.

"I'm being serious Charlotte. He's a bully and you should stand up to him and tell him to step back. You're a Gryffindor; we're supposed to be brave!"

"And then what, duel him? Spend months away but this time in St. Mungo's? Or worse, end up in Azkaban?" Charlotte shouted, losing her patience. "Tonks, we're not at school anymore! There is no House Cup and there are no teams, having been Ravenclaw or Gryffindor means nothing now; this is real life."

"Well, I think it matters." Tonks retorted obstinately "I think it tells a whole lot about you and everyone else where the sorting hat placed you; and I bet Blackboon was still the same creep he is now when he was at Hogwarts."

Charlotte stared gloomily at the wall behind Tonks.

"You were happier when we met" Tonks said softly "but now you just look miserable and with this weight over your shoulders I can't really understand. I'm your best friend, and if I can't help you then only you can help yourself."

Charlotte watched her silently.

"You know I love you, so this is the last you'll hear me speak of this, wake up! and stop being so numb about everything that is happening. You can do something about it if you try and believe it is possible."

After a moments silent, Charlotte said "Thanks" and grimaced at her plate. "Tonks, sorry to say this is really awful."

Tonks giggled and put down her fork, "I know. Let's get the ice cream and I'll tell you all about the time I set Moody's staff on fire. By accident, of course."

"Well, I actually have to go back to Level Two now. Moody wants to have a talk about my training." Tonks said faking a pout.

"Oh, well, good luck." Charlotte said laughingly.

"You'll be ok?" and she nodded at the dishes.

"Sure, I'll clean up. I have the day off anyway." Charlotte said.

"See you later then." and she ran off snatching her coat on the way and a handful of powder in a little box by the fireplace.

Charlotte lifted the table herself as the dishes and glasses washed and dried themselves and once they were done she placed them in their cupboard. Charlotte grabbed her bag and climbed up the stairs into her room. She noticed that, contrary to her desk in the department, there was no dust covering the furniture and the bed was freshly made. She threw a smile at the absent friend and started unpacking. A few minutes later she gave up on the idea, however, leaving her half folded clothes lying all over her bed. Then she reached for the papers she had brought from the office: a few notes to update her on recent events she had already heard about through conversations, and some other papers on her return from France for her to read and sign. She gave up on those too, throwing them carelessly and sending several of the pieces of paper flying all over the place.

She sighed, "Tonks is already rubbing off on me; I'm getting clumsier by the minute."

Eventually, she just sat by the windowsill, very still and watching the street below her. Everything under the rain that was hitting violently seemed surrounded by a fog and a translucent shadow that warped the world, but at the same time it was all gleaming. The leaves and the few cars that passed by seemed brighter to her. The feelings that had risen once she returned home were not quite gone yet, but now, being alone again she believed she would stand it much longer. Her work, her house, her colleagues, it all barely meant anything to her and as she was without a family, Tonks' company just nearly made that place a home for her.

Charlotte stopped her mind from turning to their previous conversation; she knew quite well what it meant to give herself the opportunity and she would not let it happen. She sighed again and frowned at all that brooding.

"Muggles have it real easy." she said with one last look out of the window.

She was about to turn away from the window when something crashed into it making her jump to the floor and reach for the wand standing at a corner of her bed. The dark figure, disfigured by the rain washing the window just stood there, levitating and she heard a scratching noise against the glass. Charlotte exhaled deeply and let the owl fly inside the room. It flew to a chair and shook off the beads of water laying on her feathers and fluffing up. The owl stretched her leg for Charlotte to take the little piece of parchment tied to it and flew away again into the heavy rain. Charlotte felt troubled but saw the owl disappear behind the building next to her house and its flight seemed steady.

She turned her attention to the piece of paper she was holding, it didn't say much,

_We need to talk. I have serious news. I can't say much but you're not going to like it. Same place as usual, lunch tomorrow._

_Thomas_

She grimaced and sat on her bed examining the paper for more clues.

All day she had been disappointed when she noticed that Thomas wasn't in the office and she still hadn't seen him when she left. He had been, so far, the only person among their colleagues who had refused to ostracize her, and Charlotte had always very much enjoyed their conversations. They had been classmates at Hogwarts, so she knew him well enough and he was not prone to exaggerations, nor was he likely to miss work for ordinary reasons. Whatever it was, it concerned her and it arose in him a state of emergency, so Charlotte grew anxious.

She pushed the piece of paper into her pants' pocket and started gathering up her cloaks, but her mind ran too fast and she was too agitated to focus on any chore, so she just left her room as it was. She threw all her clothes onto a chair, undressed and got into bed; too tired to think, she fell asleep immediately.


	3. Chapter 3

III

Charlotte held her breath and slowly took her wand out of her pocket. She tapped with her wand just the right brick, three up, two across, in the wall behind the Leaky Cauldron. An archway opened and within its frame she could see the long street, Diagon Alley, and all the fuss and liveliness of the people flying from shop to shop, their shouts and conversations and the lively colours on every window and stand seized her mind and she was left little space for ominous thoughts.

As she walked down the street, she noticed many children running about but most of them were gathered in a crowd at the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, chatting and shouting about their favourite techniques and brooms.

It was a warm morning, the sun shone on Diagon Alley without blinding them and Charlotte couldn't help but to smile. She remembered well the first time she went down that paved street, hand in hand with her parents, she was exhilarated with the list of supplies to buy for her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her mother had been baking the morning the letter arrived and had called Charlotte to the kitchen, so whenever she thought of that moment she would feel the scent of flour and lemons and remember her mother's happy voice.

Charlotte turned to the window of Flourish and Blotts where it showed the newest arrivals; there was nothing of interest to her, but she entered anyway. She noticed that most of the bookstore was stacked with the textbooks for Hogwarts, tables and shelves all around the entrance.

Small children with their parents, carrying paper bags, passed by her, back into the noisy street, and she realized they must have been also shopping books for their first year at Hogwarts.

She inspected the dim shelves at the back of the store where there were no textbooks, and some books were too disturbing to allow small children to place their eyes on them. Books about terrible curses, heads with deformed features on the cover, faces covered with boils and spider legs, one face had several eyes and none of them on their right place, and they all seemed twisted, as if screeching with pain.

"Hello there, miss." said a cross voice behind her and Charlotte turned to face the always snappy manager of the bookshop who was carrying several heavy books, and eyed her with suspicion.

"I see you've found our very own shelf of horror" he said, looking at the books behind her with revulsion, "Need any help?"

"I was looking for your more recent acquisitions" she said quickly.

"Those books are on the stand by the window." the manager retorted dropping the books on a table nearby.

"No, I mean, the books that came out this season. I've been abroad, so I haven't had the chance to...

"Those are that way, behind the big table" he retorted again, pointing at the right corner of the shop while he grabbed one of the heavy books and disappeared behind a bookshelf.

Charlotte frowned; she had forgotten how anxious and irritating the manager of Flourish and Blotts was. She eventually found an interesting book on potions by an author unknown to her, and decided to buy it. It had an odd cover with flasks and jars with strange contents floating all over the front and sometimes the wizard would detect a big purple frog and frantically run after it, only to trip and disappear into the cauldron as a mushroom shaped cloud formed above him. A second later, after the cloud vanished he would emerge looking dazed and with his face covered in warts; the frog would happily leap away.

As she left the shop again into the bustle of Diagon Alley, she told herself, though rather hesitantly, that she should pass by the Apothecary before leaving to the Leaky Cauldron, since she was running low on supplies.

The next few hours were spent wandering through the street, entering a few shops like the Eeylops Owl Emporium filled to the ceiling with beautiful types of owls, all organized by colour and sizes and distance they could travel, and Magical Menagerie with all its noisy animals, where she found an unusual orange cat who had stared back at her with as much curiosity as she had looked at it. She also went to Scribbulus where she bought a wonderful eagle quill and some ink of different colours. And she even took a peek inside Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop once she found the store slightly emptier than usual.

However, Charlotte enjoyed a lot more the part of the morning she spent sitting outside the Ice Cream Parlour with a caramel and vanilla sundae sitting in front of her. She exchanged a few words with Florean Fortescue, the owner, either light chatting about the current decrees of the Ministry or commenting on the excitement of the future first year students, as he went in and out attending his customers. As she saw him disappear again through his shop's door, she noticed a very peculiar figure standing above the crowd.

Charlotte remembered him from her stay at Hogwarts though she had never met much with the man, apart from a polite word from time to time, whenever they would pass each other in the corridors of the castle.

But still, Rubeus Hagrid, the Keeper of the Keys and the Grounds at Hogwarts, was hardly a man to go unnoticed: twice as tall as a normal man he was easily spotted among the people in the street especially by the children who would quickly stand aside. Almost five times as wide as any adult, he had a long tangled beard covering most of his face and he could look very frightening. But those who knew him would never be deceived by his looks for he had glittering eyes that gazed kindly on everyone he well-regarded.

Hagrid was trying to pass between the tables in front of the shop's door without knocking them down but with little success, and seconds later Florean Fortescue came to his rescue.

"Hagrid! You better stay there before you knock any more of those down." he said laughingly.

"Heh, sorry 'bout that Fortescue. You mind getting me two of those chocolate ice creams? With some nuts on top?" said Hagrid.

"Of course, it will be just a minute." and he quickly disappeared inside.

Hagrid stood waiting outside the circle of tables and chairs with his hands in his long coat's pockets. A moment later, Florean came back with two ice creams; Hagrid thanked him and stood waiting at the door of the shop in front of the Ice Cream Parlour, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"How's the sundae?" Florean asked, sitting at her table.

"Amazing as ever, you're the best." she said smiling and he smiled back.

"You haven't been here for a while, Thomas mentioned you were abroad, is that true?" Florean stated moving the empty cup away from her and carelessly leaning closer on the table.

"Well, I got sort of promoted actually, and they sent me to France for three months." Charlotte replied trying to sound as casual as she could.

"You don't say! You've been promoted, already? But I had the idea you had just started your training not two years ago." he said with surprise, but Charlotte recognized well the inquisitive tone in his voice.

She shrugged and said without meeting his eyes, "Sort of promoted. I suppose they didn't want to send to France anyone that was absolutely indispensable here."

Florean briefly nodded without moving his eyes away from her, but to her great relief he didn't insist on the matter. Instead his voice became much more relaxed but with that playful sardonic tone that it would usually carry.

"So it didn't occur to you for a second to send an owl warning us that you would be out of the country for months? A person gets used to certain regulars, you know?" Florean said while he scratched his beard.

"Would have you paid me a visit if I had?" she snickered.

"Not bloody likely!" he laughed heartily.

Charlotte had always found it hard to explain to anyone the nature of her relationship with Florean Fortescue. She was not even sure she knew the answer. They were not friends, nor had they ever referred to themselves as such; however, they kept more than the level of acquaintance that any regular customer and the shop owner would maintain. And still, it was through sundaes and ice cream servings that they came to know and like each other.

"Are you free for lunch?" he asked suddenly.

"Lunch?" she repeated quickly looking up at him with a surprising feeling of awkwardness, "Um, no, I just arrived today, and, um, I am already supposed to meet Thomas, at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Alright, there's just this new place that opened nearby, and since the owners are Muggles I just thought I'd use you as a, how do you say, test subject?" he said jokingly. However, Charlotte noticed that as he prepared to leave the table grabbing the empty sundae cup, he avoided looking her straight in the eyes.

"Maybe you could join us later." she suggested somewhat apologetically.

"No, no, thank you. I don't believe my stomach can handle much more lunches at the Leaky Cauldron" he said quickly as he got up, looking behind him towards a table where a family had just sat, "Anyway, you know where I work. Tomorrow, maybe." and Charlotte saw him walk away.

She sat there silently for a few moments, Florean had rushed between the tables and gotten inside after taking their order and she calmly remained listening to the only people sitting near her. Both children played with colourful flying figurines and spoke excitedly about house teams, the youngest mispronouncing all their names, but they both looked too young to enter Hogwarts.

She waited for Florean to come outside again, but she eventually just got up and left, walking up the street in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, but first, as she reminded herself, a short stop at the Apothecary.


	4. Chapter 4

IV

It was evening, so the Leaky Cauldron was bursting with customers when Charlotte entered. Tom, the old owner of the pub, was loudly chatting with a couple of men sitting by the bar and kept an eye on the glasses that next to him were being cleaned by an enchanted green piece of cloth. She passed by a table occupied by three young witches dressed in bright robes and cloaks that stood out easily in the dark pub. From what she perceived from their hurried and cheerful talk, they had just graduated from Hogwarts and started work, and Charlotte immediately remembered Tonks, who too had just graduated this year and had started her training as an Auror.

Charlotte finally spotted a table left empty by a fidgety wizard with a sort of turban that rapidly walked towards the exit. She was on her way moving past the bar, hoping that Thomas would soon join her, when someone stood up and abruptly stopped her.

"Well! If it isn't Ms Murray, from _Level Five - Department of International Magical Cooperation_" said a mocking voice coming from above her, imitating the tone of the woman they could hear in the lifts at the Ministry.

Charlotte stepped back so she could see the hairy face of the man standing in front of her. She felt the pervading stench of cheap beer before she recognized Mr. Hall, the violent man she had encountered at Mr. Crouch's office. He had a drunken smile behind his dark beard and a pint in his hand but the eyes were fixed on her, watching her with malicious attention.

"Why, what brings your Excellency to the tavern this splendid evening? Certainly not to drink, huh?" he continued disdainfully and waved his pint around, beer sloshing over the sides and falling on an unfortunate couple sitting nearby. "You haven't brought any more of those fancy papers, have you?"

Charlotte frowned and tried to move past him but he pushed her back. Mr. Hall's smile disappeared from his face,

"Where d'you think you're going? Wasn't I speaking to you? I can't stand rudeness, you know?" he roared.

"If anyone here is being rude that is you, Mr. Hall" she snarled looking at him straight in his mossy blue eyes. "I didn't come here to socialize, now _please_, move aside."

Mr. Hall gave a snide chuckle as she continued on her way to the table, "A chip off the old block, huh?"

Charlotte turned back rapidly "What is that supposed to mean?" Her hand automatically reached to her coat's pocket and grabbed her wand.

"You just like your father, that's what I mean." he bellowed, very sombre. "He was as nasty and as worthless too, wasn't he? And I bet he's a Death Eater too." And he gave a loud hiss, "Pathetic snakes."

By then the whole pub was paying attention to their conversation; Mr. Hall's shouts had even caught the interest of the three young witches sitting at the corner. So they all witnessed the yellowy flash and an enormous mass flying across half the room, hitting the wooden staircase.

Charlotte was trembling and blind with rage; she looked down on Mr Hall whom she had just stunned, her wand was still in her pocket. But Mr Hall was shifting in his place. His left arm swayed awkwardly and his clothes were a bit torned off but he was already standing up straight. She stiffened in her place holding her breath, but before she could take her wand out, a pair of hands grabbed her by the elbow and tried pulling her back. It took her by surprise and she lost her balance for a second, and before she could react Mr. Hall was facing her.

She hadn't noticed that it had been Thomas holding her arm, until Mr. Hall passed by her and clutched his collars, vigorously shoving him. Thomas tried reaching for his wand but he hit a chair and tumbled over falling hard on the floor.

"That ought to teach you not to barge in on a good scrap, you dumb _bairn_*. You lucky I can't use my best arm." Mr Hall roared and moved away.

Charlotte took her wand out and suspiciously pointed it at Mr. Hall, holding her other hand out to help Thomas back to his feet, but Mr. Hall just turned his back to them and bent down to pick up his empty cup.

He stared at the bottom of the cup, looking desolate, laid it down on the table where the distressed couple was still sitting, and said to Charlotte, "You own me a beer, child."

"This isn't over." she said resolutely.

Mr. Hall hooted joyfully, "Just like your father!" and he left the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, the owner was already putting table and chairs back in their places as he walked towards Charlotte and Thomas.

"What did he mean by that?" Thomas asked rubbing the arm over which he had fallen.

"I don't know" she replied grabbing him by the sleeve "but we can't stay here now. Let's go somewhere quieter, so we can talk." and she pushed him back to Diagon Alley.

They rushed down the street, Thomas following. Diagon Alley was calmer and gloomier, but a few open shops still illuminated the street with the light coming from inside. People were still strolling about, but their talks seemed quieter probably because no children were in sight. Charlotte darted pass Fortescue's Parlour and swiftly entered Knockturn Alley.

Thomas stopped at the corner, "Why are we going there for?"

"We need a quiet place to talk, don't we?" she replied sharply, and hinted towards the shadowy street "Let's go."

"Why don't we just sit at Fortescue's? There's barely anyone there now." he said apprehensively "And you should really stop by the shop, Fortescue asked about you, you know?"

"Thomas, you're a grown wizard, don't tell me you're going to be frightened by a dark street!" she snapped but still Thomas didn't budge. People standing near the corner fell silent and turned their heads to watch them. Charlotte sighed, "Fine, pick a cafe. But nothing too crowded."

They eventually settled outside a quiet cafe near Ollivander's, and they both ordered coffee and Thomas had a slice of pineapple pie. Charlotte took out from her pocket the piece of parchment she had received earlier,

"So what's this all about? What will I not like?"

Thomas looked very serious all of a sudden, "Hmm, I'll just start from the beginning. Two weeks ago, I was having a _small_ argument about the importance of reports with Alexander Hunt, you know, the foreign bloke from the Beast Division in Level Four. Well, long story short, he had captured a werewolf outside Britain and the Irish Ministry didn't appreciate not knowing about it. Strange thing is Blackboon's name came up when I was sorting out that mess."

"Blackboon? What's he got to do with me?" she hissed at him.

"Wait, please, let me finish" he said leaning forward and lowered his tone, "As I looked into it and enquired a few people, your family name came up too. Your father's name came up, to be specific." he paused waiting for a response "It seems that they had dealings with werewolves the Ministry didn't know about, but I couldn't discover the exact nature of those dealings. The people who told me about it, seemed too frightened to confess anything else, and honestly, at that moment, I felt too frightened to insist. So you can see how it can concern you, since werewolves have always been among the major supports of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and you know..."

Charlotte continued silent, absently stirring the coffee that had turned cold. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Charlotte, you know exactly…" but she had already stood up, not listening to his explanation.

"Look, I knew my father, alright? He wouldn't have anything to do with that; and I also happen to know Blackboon. As far as I'm concerned that git probably got my father involved in some shady business without his knowledge." she retorted throwing some coins to the table to pay for the coffee.

"Charlotte," Thomas insisted "you know I'll have to expose this to Mr. Crouch and launch a full investigation." he paused. "And I will mention what I have discovered about your father."

"Thomas, you know Blackboon, he's scum. He would do anything to have his way, whatever it is." she pleaded clutching hard on the strap of her satchel.

"I'm sorry Charlotte, but I can't do that. This is too serious, I will have to disclose everything."

"Even to the point of soiling a good man's name?" she said suddenly towering over him.

Thomas sneered but regretted it when he saw her scowl at him, "Charlotte, don't be irrational, your father's name was hardly honourable. You are well aware everyone suspects that he might even have been a Death Eater."

"He was no such thing!" she snarled.

"Charlotte..." it was his time to plead, but she ignored him.

"If you want to go through with your lies, I'll be there too, and you will not want to cross me, Thomas."

Charlotte turned away leaving her warning vibrating in the air, and walked fast until she disappeared completely in the dim light of night. Behind her, she left a tense figure that was looking anxiously over the shoulder.

She wasn't exactly aware of where she was going; only that she had to keep on walking. She hadn't felt that enraged for years and if she didn't walk away; she would explode and would take everyone else along with her.

*Bairn – _Scot_., A child


	5. Chapter 5

V

Charlotte was led into a bright little room, all decorated with soft pink slipcovers and curtains, and jars with fresh flowers on each table. She picked the sofa facing the door. A tray with warm tea and cinnamon biscuits had been set in front of her on antique tea table and she watched the smoke rise absently, and waited. For the last few years, she had avoided visiting that place too often, but whenever she found an excuse not to stopover, that would fill her with a sense of guilt and sadness, for she knew the immense delight her scarce visits provided.

The door of the room opened and a minute lady peered into the room. Her face, wrinkly and tired, lit up immediately in a smile once she saw Charlotte. She was walking very slowly towards the other sofa; a merry faced woman dressed in a soft pink robe much like the curtains, helped the older woman sit and swiftly left the room smiling at Charlotte. The elder reached for Charlotte's hand and grasped it weakly,

"It is so good to see you, my dear. I received all your letters about you being in France; I expect you had a good time while you were there." she said happily.

"Yes, I did." Charlotte smiled at her and tapped the other's hand gently. "How are you, today?"

"Oh, the same aches and pains of old age." she sighed but her smile stopped in her face and suddenly turned into a creased frown on her forehead. "Oh! But did you know that Atwood has run off? I can't seem to find that little turncoat anywhere. He might as well end up under the Knight Bus, for all I care."

"You don't mean that, aunt." Charlotte said quietly with a smile.

"Oh, of course I don't mean it. I so wish he would return" she sighed again but this time with sorrow. "And how are you, my dear Jane? And how is my nephew Ewan? You tell him to visit me sometime too. It seems it has been so long since I have last seen his face. I can barely remember him." she said distantly looking out the window at the heavy gray clouds.

"Ewan is very happy. He loves the work he's doing at the Ministry." Charlotte said without meeting her eyes.

"I'm sure he does!" she cackled, "Ewan and his beasts. I never quite understood what allured him so much. His mother and I tried to stop it, of course, it always seemed to me that it was work beneath his abilities, but he was ever so stubborn."

Charlotte smiled and the old woman looked at her inventively, a peculiar glimpse passing through her eyes,

"Lottie must be so grown up right now. You must bring her with you on your next visit." she said still holding her hand.

"I will" Charlotte replied. "In fact, my visit today partially concerns her." she forced a new smile on her face "I came to ask you if there is anything you could tell me about the Blackboon family. As it appears, she made friends with William Blackboon and you know how careful I like to be about the company our Lottie keeps."

"Of course, of course, you can't ever be too careful, and you do well to come to see me about those affairs. I happen to be, indeed acquainted with Charles Blackboon. My father knew his father quite well, they were the greatest of friends in fact, and we paid visit to each other frequently. I would not have a foul word to say about Charles Blackboon's family name if it wasn't for that wretched son of his. He is an outright blood-traitor, a shame to all of them."

Charlotte froze in her sofa in disbelief, "Do you mean William Blackboon? A blood traitor?"

"William? No, no, he must be but a child. Didn't you just say he has befriended our little Lottie? Please, Jane, keep your head straight, I meant William's father, Charles Blackboon, Jr." and Charlotte breathed again. "But no one speaks of him anymore; he was burned out of the family tree. Luckily, he died and his father took his grandson in."

"Of course, I wasn't aware of that. I've always thought that Charles Blackboon was William's father."

"Well, he educated him properly, so as I am concerned, he is his father. I have never met the child myself, but knowing Charles, our Lottie couldn't be in better company. In fact, I could not wish for anything more than to see Charlotte bearing that good family name herself, one day."

Charlotte clasped her hands tight and shifted positions on the sofa so that her revolt wouldn't be noticed and again gently tapped her aunt's hand.

"That is great news. Maybe she will one day belong to the family." and she continued expectantly. "I also heard Charles Blackboon works in the Ministry."

"Oh, of course, how silly of me!" the old lady laughed loudly. "Ewan must know him; I believe they work in the same department."

"Do you have any idea what he does within the department?" and added "So I can tell Ewan."

"I have not the slightest idea, my dear." she laughed "Ewan must know him for sure! It is impossible he doesn't, and I am surprised he never mentioned it to me. I have met with the Blackboon family often, though we are not as closely related as you and I are, or else I myself would have thought of introducing our children."

Charlotte escaped from the conversation for a few moments while the old woman ranted about how her nephew should be more concerned about his daughter's future which was severely associated with a marriage into a good, pure-blooded family. In her mind, she could see her father standing beside a tall grey man wearing a fine navy robe, both talking in a luxurious living room lit by a fireplace. For the first time, she realized that man was Charles Blackboon, Sr., and that it had not been a dream.

Standing rigidly in front of her had been a boy twice her age with a strictly combed hair, Lottie had smiled at him nervously, but he hadn't smile back.

"My father said we are to be wedded one day." he had said very solemnly.

"What's that?" Lottie had asked, she must have been about five years old then.

He had shrugged and had simply continued assertively "My father is the smartest man alive so we better do as he says. He has never been wrong, you know?"

Lottie had looked up to the men on the other side of the room, "Your father is old."

"Well, he is your father's boss, so sod off!" he had snapped suddenly.

"You can't say that!" Lottie had said, wide eyed and hurt by his sudden violence. From the first moment she hadn't liked that boy very much and with that retort he hadn't won her favour still. She had decided to ask her mother once she got home what it meant "wedded". Her mother was very smart too, Lottie had thought, and a lot smarter than her father. She had approached silently, listening to her father,

"You think that Black will help us? The Blacks are _his_ fierce supporters but this is a different matter. And it doesn't concern _him_ directly."

"I am sure he will help, I will make sure he does what we need him to do. Do not worry so much Ewan." had said the older man, beaming.

"I know, but I can't help thinking we should be careful with Reginald. He's an animal. I don't think he's trustworthy, at all."

"He is only an animal once a month." the eldest had replied still smiling largely, and grasping the shorter man's shoulder with vigour "And Reg has served me well for several years now. Trust us, Ewan. Our Lord Voldemort will know nothing of this, we are in reality is loyal followers, are we not?"

"Yes, we are" had said her father with more confidence. "For now we are."

"Even _he_ will not live forever, and if it takes too long, we'll make sure he doesn't, with the help of our werewolf friends." he had said but stopped at the sight of the little Lottie standing beside them, her pensive eyes turned to their faces.

"William!" the older man had roared "Haven't I told you to go play into the other room?"

The same boy had peered into the room, shamefaced, "I'm sorry father, but I didn't want to play with her."

"Well, it doesn't matter." her father had said throwing her a large smile, and she had beamed back, "We shall talk more, now I must return before Jane gets suspicious of our walks in the park." he had laughed loudly and had looked down at Lottie.

Charlotte had wondered if they would still be going to the park after all. She had looked up back to her father and had seen him take his wand out of his robe, and that was the last thing she remembered from that particular night.

That episode had always tormented her, and something within her had always said it hadn't been a dream. But she could not have guessed that the father she had always adored had betrayed her.

Charlotte was suddenly awakened from her daydreaming by the same merry faced lady in pink, knocking on the door and pushing it, half entering the room,

"Mrs. Malfoy, your son is here to see you. Should I let him in or would you rather prefer he waited outside until Ms. Murray leaves?" she asked.

"Well, I suppose I should leave now, aunt, Lottie must be missing me already." Charlotte said smiling at the old lady.

"Of course" she smiled "Please, do bring her with you on your next visit; I adore that little girl; and send Charles Blackboon my regards when you next see him. I must visit him too someday."

Charlotte kissed her cheek gently and left the room. Immediately outside stood waiting a tall man with long, pale blonde hair. He nodded at her and entered without a word,

"Oh my dear son, I am so happy to see you! I have been here all alone, without one single visit. Your cousin Ewan doesn't visit me often; he must be so full of work, the poor thing. And his lovely wife Jane is now off to France. I've received her letters, you see. I am so glad you came today, Lucius." Charlotte could still hear Mrs. Malfoy's voice as she walked along the corridor.


	6. Chapter 6

VI

"Ms. Murray!" said a loud voice near her. Charlotte jumped in her chair and noticed, peering with quite visible annoyance above her cubicle wall, Ethan Cooper said, "Mr. Crouch send for you, didn't you hear? Or are you planning a take over the department?" And he disappeared with the same sour look on his face.

Charlotte cringed gazing with fury the wall that separated her from the flush-faced Ethan Cooper. She got up slowly peering over the cubicles' walls and noticed the one belonging to Thomas was empty. The dreadful feeling of imminent catastrophe whirled within her as she walked towards the office of the head of the department.

A couple of days had passed since Thomas and her had had their last conversation; in the office they would rarely even glance at each other and everyone else around them noticed the tension. To her surprise, each day had gone as normal, no formal investigation, no Aurors at her doorstep to search her house. Charlotte couldn't be sure if Thomas hadn't already spoken to Mr. Crouch about his newest discovery; and neither her boss nor her colleagues had shown her any hint of mistrust and curiosity, nor had there been any gossip around the office.

Once she opened the office's door, she searched through the room rapidly but didn't find Thomas inside, only Mr. Crouch, sitting in his sofa turned in his seat to see her and another huge man sitting in front of him. She felt punched in the stomach as she looked, for the third time in the same week, at Mr. Hall's face. Again, he beamed at her his drunken grin and again, his shrewd eyes remained watchfully fixed in her face.

"Ms. Murray, please, come in and sit with us." said Mr. Crouch.

Charlotte lowered her eyes as to deliberately avoid looking directly into Mr. Hall's face, and so she managed to tolerate the satisfied expression she knew she would see on it.

"So, Ms. Murray, I introduce to you, Mr. Finlay Hall, whom you had briefly met, I am sure you remember, a few days ago."

Charlotte remembered well their first encounter, and she remembered even better their second one when she had thrown him against the wall in the Leaky Cauldron. She felt uneasy, wondering if Mr. Hall had informed Mr. Crouch of their clash and so she was here to be punished. In a moment of sudden anger she recalled that it had been Mr. Hall that had pushed her into cursing him, but she remained silent and stretched her hand, finally facing the man and looking him in the eyes,

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hall."

For a slight moment she saw his eyes warm up to her as he engulfed her hand in his and gave her a sturdy shake. Her hand felt throbbing after that, but she did her best to ignore it returning her hand to her side on the sofa.

Mr Crouch coughed sounding a bit annoyed, and turned to her "I am not sure if you are aware Ms. Murray, but Mr. Hall works in Level Two as an Auror. A few moments ago, Mr Hall here barged into my office and as it appears, he seems to be under the impression - and how he came to that conclusion I am not exactly sure - that you, Ms. Murray are on the wrong line of profession."

"Excuse me?" said Charlotte looking at Mr Crouch, her eyes wide with puzzlement.

"I am not under the impression Mr. Crouch. She is the example of talent wasting away inside those boxes." he said, nodding at the door.

Mr Crouch fidgeted in his seat, obviously upset with Mr Hall's conduct, but sat straight with an air of authority and looked directly at him.

"Ms Murray is already extremely successful in the work she does in our department; the work and career that she chose, as I may add. I am quite aware of her curriculum" Mr Crouch continued heatedly stopping Mr Hall from intervening "As I am sure you are, evidently. But it is not for me, and certainly it is not for you to demand that she change her career so suddenly based only on your opinion, as well intended as it may be. Ms Murray is the most accomplished internee we had in her year, even being rewarded for her hard work with a promo..."

"You promoted her because Blackboon told you to." spitted Mr Hall leaving Mr Crouch frozen in his seat, his mouth half opened.

"How dare you, say... _she_ is a very accomplished employee." screeched Mr Crouch.

"Well, if he didn't tell you, he told someone else, and I'm sure she's very good at her work, but look" and he was no longer speaking to Mr Crouch and leaned forward looking again into Charlotte's face, she was starting to fear how easily he could catch her attention "you know you don't belong here, _right_?

"I've seen what you can do and this is a waste of your skills. Our department and everyone else, would just gain from having someone talented as you working there as an Auror."

Charlotte answered cautiously, "I did think of becoming an Auror but I must have decided against it because I am here and I love it."

But he roared at her, exasperated, "That is the most outrageous lie I've ever heard." he leaned even more in his seat getting so close to her that she could hear him whisper, "I can help you, there's nothing that cannot be done, I promise."

Charlotte considered silently staring into his blue eyes, but slightly shook her head unable to answer him using words.

"There is your answer, Mr Hall." said Mr Crouch beaming. "She is International Relations after all."

"Well then, maybe, _or maybe not_." he said with a small threatening tone to his voice and left hurriedly not even bothering to shut the door.

Charlotte remained seated, feeling stunned, until Mr. Crouch himself rose from the sofa and, turning to her, said, "Do excuse Mr. Hall, he had always been one to have, well, peculiar ideas." He laughed nervously, "Who would suspect that you even..."

The abrupt sound of a commotion and loud rapping and knocking came to them from outside the room. Mr. Crouch, looking graver than Charlotte had ever seen him, pulled his wand from his robe's pocket. Within a second, he was at the door and she heard more people shouting and followed him, moving fast along the corridor.

The room was in disarray; all the desks had been crammed against the wall with the window so only few rays of sunlight were visible through them. People that had managed to flee from their cubicles in time were trying to move the desks away and were pulling the ones that hadn't been as lucky.

She saw a few of her colleagues who were bleeding profusely being removed to a corner of the room; everyone was looking anxiously at the pair of wizards standing in front of her. Mr. Hall was the first one she recognized. He was standing rigid and still with a feral look on his face; his wand pointed at another wizard who had been knocked unconscious against the wall.

Charlotte didn't recognize him. He was lying motionless with his head lolled to the side; blood was dripping from his forehead and his glazed eyes were open. She felt a shiver ran to her neck.

"Mr. Hall" croaked Mr. Crouch slowly walking towards him. The room fell suddenly very silent. "What has happened here?"

"He's not dead" said Mr. Hall without moving an inch. He didn't answer the question and let silence fall again.

"Will someone, please, explain the meaning of this?" said Mr. Crouch looking exasperated. "You, Mr. Cooper, what happened here?"

However, Ethan Cooper didn't have time to answer, for Mr. Hall decided to speak again in a low, rasping voice that to Charlotte sounded very unnatural coming from his usual drunken self.

"I'm sorry" he said "but I couldn't do anything."

Charlotte glanced at Mr. Crouch expecting him to find meaning in those words but he looked as oblivious as she felt. Mr. Hall finally shifted in his place. He turned towards her; his face had a look of weariness. He budged as if he meant to say something to her. However, he just lowered his wand and moved aside.

As he walked by, Charlotte heard him repeat again, "I'm sorry, about your friend" but it seemed to come from so far away. It was as if an endless distance had been placed between her consciousness and the ground where she stood. For a second, Charlotte felt numb.

Thomas' lifeless body was lying a few feet away from her. His face was touching the cold marble of the ground. A slight expression of surprise had fallen on his features. His open eyes were glazed too, and empty.

She noticed people moving closer to his body. Mr. Crouch had stopped, quietly, in his place. A second later, he darted to his office. The fluttering of the flying purple memos soon filled the space behind her, near the lift.

The moment the door open, however, voices echoed in the silence and what seemed like a lift packed full of wizard was emptied into the room. Quick steps passed by her on their way to seize the motionless body of the unknown wizard. An auburn hair girl had knelt down by Thomas' body, her hand removing the hair that had fallen to his face. His eyes were still open.

Someone was talking to her in a very slow but indistinct voice. She saw pink locks of hair in the corner of her eye. She felt an arm surrounding her shoulders. Someone should have closed his eyes. His body had been covered by someone's cloak. The girl with the auburn hair had tears in her eyes and was moving away. His eyes were still open under the dark cloak.

Charlotte heard someone groan quietly on her right. Two wizards carried on their shoulders another wizard that was awaking. She felt the arm clasping her tighter and pulling her the other direction.

Someone should have closed his eyes.

Before she could realize, Charlotte was taking the wand out of her cloak's pocket, moving swiftly away from the embrace. She heard a shout coming from behind her. With a flick of her arm, she pushed the two wizards away from the nameless assassin. He was clutching his throat, grasping for air, and his eyes fixed on her in desperation. His feet trying frantically to find the ground as she made her wand rise higher.

Charlotte felt a sharp pain explode on her left shoulder and was thrown with force against a wall. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.


End file.
